Rock Creek Caverns

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The door opens onto the hot and dusty landscape of June in the Capital Wasteland. Specifically, onto the interior of what was once a halfway-decent barn. These days a good half the slats that used to form the walls are gone, and the roof's mostly collapsed- but, hey, it has a door.

(Also it has the carcass of a giant scorpion, but that's neither here nor there.)

"All right, guys," Ellen says. "This seemed like the safest place to start, out of everyone's way."

Comments

[fullofmercy]

Hot and dusty are all too familiar. Casting a glance at the dead scorpion (ew), Wolfwood fishes sunglasses out of his pocket and slips them on. The Punisher lands with a metallic clank on the floor next to him, and he leans comfortably on one of the crossarms, looking around.

Yeah. It's got that abandoned, Godforsaken sheen to it that he knows so well.

"Cozy," he remarks, offhandedly, adjusting the satchel at his hip.

[luvs_yogurt]

Michael's quiet - not even a year ago he was in Nigeria, baking under a similarly hot sun when he found out he was burned. It's almost cathartic to be back in the desert. Not his desert, of course, not even his world... but in a way, it feels right.

One hand on the grip of the combat knife at his hip, he eyes the remains, and then scans the interior of the barn - looking for signs of just about anything out of habit more than fear. Ellen doesn't seem like the kind of girl that would wander into a trap or spring one on him, but you can never be too sure.

Pushing his shades up the bridge of his nose, he looks to the preacher first and then Miss Park; "This barn has the structural integrity of a wet tissue."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I don't come here often," Ellen says. "Most of the time if I'm bringing people to the Wasteland from Milliways, I use one of the doors in Springvale- it's a ruined town just outside the Megaton city walls. There's too many people there now, though. Someone would ask questions."

She closes the door behind her, then opens it again; this time all it opens onto is a stunning vista of rocky scrub desert just beginning to show the signs of a dedicated, concentrated effort at replanting in the distance. Michael might, if he tried, catch sight of the ruins of the DC Skyline in the far southeast beyond the rearing gray form of half an elevated highway.

"We may have to repair this place someday, if people start moving into the Springvale area again, but that's a long way off."

[fullofmercy]

It figures that his first foray into another world would lead him straight into another desert, and Wolfwood lights a broken cigarette with a sigh of resignation.

True, it's why he'd offered to come, but that doesn't mean he's exactly thrilled to be back under ... is that only one sun?

This place is weird.

At least it's rocky and not the shifting treachery of sand. He nods towards the ruins. "Our destination?"

[luvs_yogurt]

Michael shifts on his boots, taking the laser pistol from his hip holster to get used to the light weight as they prepare to venture out into the new world. He's not sensing any kind of danger - yet - but it never hurts to be ready when it comes.

Gently squeezing at the grip with his finger outside the trigger guard, he holds it still on his right side - pointed at the ground.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Somewhat to the north of those ruins, but that's the general direction," Ellen says. She reaches over her shoulder to take down her plasma rifle. "The entrance to the Rock Creek tunnel system is through a side branch of the old DC Metro, on the other side of what's left of the Potomac. There's a bridge a little ways north of here that was strong enough to hold myself and Jingles at the same time when last I tested it, so unless you feel like wading through irradiated, heavy-metal-laden water, we'll use that. Just be sure to keep an eye out for the crab creatures- I know I will."

[fullofmercy]

"That seems to be sound advice."

The pistol Vash gave him for the Quick Draw competition sits comfortably in it's thigh holster, but it won't do much in comparison to the weapons Ellen and Michael are carrying.

The Punisher will, but he prefers not to use it for bugs or crabs.

Hefting the familiar weight with a hand under one of the belts, he nods to his companions. "No time like the present."

[luvs_yogurt]

Quick to agree, Michael nods; "Sounds good to me - didn't bring my floaties anyway."

It doesn't occur to him that likely neither of his companions know what floaties are or why that's a funny joke.

As they leave the barn, he watches toward the East - glancing back toward what looks almost shockingly like the same DC he left back in his world... after an apocalypse. It's both comforting know the surroundings are totally foreign, and little bit frightening to know what could happen to it. Satisfied, he turned his head back to an easy scan of the eastern expanse - watching for anything that moves.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Ellen looks blankly at Michael for a moment, then shrugs and starts northward with Jingles' reins in hand. The Giddyup Buttercup robot horses were built for play, not for intelligence.

"I've traveled in this general direction before. It's not uncommon to run into raiders in this area," she notes. "Not very well organized, but some of them have seriously high-caliber weaponry to their names. Probably stuff they managed to pick up from dead Enclave soldiers- we won't be seeing any of those today, thankfully."

[fullofmercy]

Wolfwood looks at Michael, too, but his expression is quizzical.

"Floaties?"

There's the familiar crunch of sand and pebbles under his scuffed brown boots as they head out, and the Punisher is a comforting weight against his back. "There doesn't seem to be a hell of a lot to raid," he points out, as they walk.

"Unless you aren't the only one who travels out this way."

Raiders are a pain, but if Michael and Ellen are any good with those weapons, they should be okay. He might not be Vash the Stampede, but he at least has the benefit of not minding if he kills somebody.

[luvs_yogurt]

Michael's eyes catch a worn path in the distance and he whispers to the preacher; "A lot of people come through here, there's marks - boots and hoof marks." Not horses, he assumes probably the cow-like creatures Ellen had shown him pictures of.

"Probably toward Springvale."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"There are trade routes across the Wastes," Ellen murmurs. "From Canterbury Commons up north to where the Temple of the Union used to be, west to Agatha's house and the radio antenna, south to Arefu and Megaton and Rivet City and the other communities, and then north again. The caravans are all guarded, but even Crow and Lucky Harith can only protect themselves so far. Enough raiders in one swoop can come away with a lot. And if anyone is trying to travel on their own, well...."

She's got companions for a reason, and she's the one in power armor.

[fullofmercy]

He nods, looking out over the tracks. So, not unlike the gangs that roam around the deep desert, lying in wait for caravans or steamers.

Fortunately, with only three of them (four, counting the mechanical horse), they can travel fairly quickly.

With luck, they'll avoid notice.

[luvs_yogurt]

"How big are the groups, usually?" Michael asks, catching a hint of movement out of the corner of his eye.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Five or six," says Ellen quietly, turning just a little; she's seen it too. "If they have sense they'll see our guns and leave us alone."

(They don't have sense. They never have sense. The only ones who ever did were in Bethesda, and surprised at home, rather than out raiding.)

(They never have sense.)

[fullofmercy]

His hand tightens on the strap, but he doesn't flick the catch yet, not until he can get a better view of how many they're expecting.

The pistol should work fine, and his hand drops to the holster.

"I don't suppose they just want to chat," he says, easily, as he sets the Punisher down and steps behind it.

[luvs_yogurt]

Michael stops several steps ahead of the cross, watching the first flashes of leather and guns coming behind a pile of rubble.

"My count is four," he whispers, lifting the laser pistol toward the first one he sees but not yet firing; "two clubs coming first, to assault rifles behind cover."

He glances for a second to Ellen; "Permission to fire, Miss Park?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"If they did, they'd have called out to us by now," says Ellen.

(One of the incoming raiders lets out a high, mad cackle, punctuating it with something obscene.)

"Permission granted," she says, and takes aim herself. "If any of them break and run, let them go."

Then the gunfire starts. So much for talking it over.

[fullofmercy]

Sand spits around the foot of the cross and his boots, but Wolfwood ignores it and draws, calm, squeezes off two shots. One hits a raider in the shoulder; the next, in the chest. He goes down like he's been hit with a brick.

Sorry, Vash. There's no other choice.

[luvs_yogurt]

Michael aims further, toward a gap in the debris - catching one with a mohawk in the throat before seeing a fifth just a second too late as a guy in a hood lifts a large rocket launcher.

"We got incoming!" He shouts, catching him in the chest with three quick pulls of the trigger before falling back and away from what he hopes is the primary range of the weapon - but he knows isn't nearly far enough to not catch splash back.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"On it," says Ellen calmly, and fires before rolling away. Several things happen at once:

- The rocket slams into the ground and explodes, scattering shrapnel and dirt everywhere;
- The plasma bolts hit the raider who'd fired with that damn launcher in the first place; and
- Dogmeat, who had started running the instant the bullets were fired, looks extremely disappointed as the human he'd been about to jump at disintegrates in a shower of green goo.

yeah. Sometimes that happens.

[fullofmercy]

Wolfwood takes cover behind the Punisher, squeezes off a few more shots, catching a yelling raider in the leg and then shutting him up with a shot to the head.

"I like your style," he says, approvingly. Not that he needs anything other than the Punisher, but there's definitely something to be said for the plasma gun.

[luvs_yogurt]

With one last shot at an injured but not yet dead raider, Michael grins when the target turns into a little pile of sparkly dust.

"Not bad," he laughs somewhat hesitantly. "Everyone in one piece?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I am, yes," says Ellen, and comes to her feet. "How about you?"

She's dealt with worse than raiders before more times than she likes to think of, but she can't always see what's happening to everyone else in a fight.

[fullofmercy]

Rummaging in a pocket, Wolfwood pulls out a handful of bullets and reloads before slipping the gun back into the holster and hoisting the Punisher up out of the sand, settling it over one shoulder.

"Fine here," he tells them, dusting off his jacket before nodding to the fallen raiders. "Think they have anything useful on them?"